


For Science

by Swoonz13



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Comedy, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swoonz13/pseuds/Swoonz13
Summary: “You’re telling me, when presented with the opportunity for anything you could possibly desire, you ask me  for a grilled cheese sandwich?“Chloe and Lucifer spend an evening together.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 22
Kudos: 234





	For Science

**Author's Note:**

> Just some shameless flirty-flirt-flirting. It’s briefly mentioned in the story, but this would take place after The Angel of San Bernardino.
> 
> I own nothing. This is just for fun.

Rain in Los Angeles was a rare occurrence. Thunderstorms that dropped sheets of precipitation so heavily that your vision became impaired on the road were even rarer. So, when the deluge abruptly began Thursday night at 8 PM, the city came to a standstill.

“No. It’s fine. I’m stuck here, anyway. Thanks, Dan.” Chloe hung up her phone, and worried at her necklace. 

Dan had taken Trixie to dinner to celebrate her report card. By the time they’d made it back to his place to pick up her school bag, the rain had started. He’d decided to keep their daughter a night earlier than planned, rather than brave the storm.

Chloe had agreed to grab a celebratory drink at Lux with her partner before the sky had opened up. She’d become accustomed to her eccentric partner’s ritual of closing every solved case with free drinks at his club, and no longer tried to fight it when he’d suggested it.

For his part, Lucifer looked dour and annoyed. The rain had virtually emptied the club, and if the weather reports were to be believed, there would be no end in sight until the early morning hours of the following day. 

“Well, this is thoroughly depressing,” he said into his whiskey.

Chloe smiled. “Yeah, I should probably go.”

“In this?” he asked in disbelief. “Absolutely not! You’re staying, Detective. I insist.”

“And do what?” She asked in annoyance.

“Netflix and chill?” He offered, eyes dancing.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah, no.” She turned from the bar, and he grabbed her arm.

“I’m joking,” he said. “Mostly.” He grinned, then grew more serious. “I won’t have you driving in this, Detective.”

She regarded him fondly. “Fine. I’ll stay until the rain blows over.”

“Excellent.” He smiled warmly at her.

Once he’d dismissed the majority of his staff (what was the use of keeping them all there to do nothing?) he and Chloe had made their way up to the penthouse.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll see what I can scare up for dinner. I had planned to order in, but...” He gestured at the storm raging outside his floor to ceiling windows.

“Do you even have food here?” she asked playfully looking at his impressive bar.

“Ha ha. Yes, I do, Detective. Fancy anything in particular?”

“I could go for a grilled cheese,” she said watching the sheets of water pummel his balcony.

“Detective,” he groaned.

“What? You asked what I wanted,” she replied, crossing her arms.

“You’re telling me, when presented with the opportunity for anything you could possibly desire, you ask me for a grilled cheese sandwich?“ 

“I like grilled cheese!”

“How old are you?”

“Fine. I admit it’s nostalgic. It’s like the best parts of childhood and the worst parts of college all smashed into one,” she said smiling.

He considered her. “Alright. I’ll make you an adult grilled cheese sandwich. I think I have some aged cheddar. Do you want bacon?”

“That is not a grilled cheese!” she laughed.

“Agreed. It’s better.”

“A proper grilled cheese sandwich consists of three things, and three things only. Bread, butter, and—“

“Please don’t say it,” he begged.

“American cheese,” she finished triumphantly.

He made a disgusted face. “That bright orange, oily garbage wrapped in plastic?”

“Fine. I’ll tell you what. You make it your way, and I’ll make it my way, then we’ll split them.”

“Stakes?” he asked shedding his coat and rolling up his sleeves.

“Does it have to have stakes?”

“Absolutely, Detective. Let’s make it interesting.”

She laughed. “I don’t know, I don’t really want anything.”

He snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. If I win, you have to watch season three of Bones with me.”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “but I’m going to win, so...”

“Never bet against the devil, darling,” he said darkly through a grin.

—

Chloe rummaged through his refrigerator. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t have any American cheese?”

He was already frying bacon on the stove.

“Of course, I don’t, Detective,” he said breezily.

“Then why did you insist on a bet?”

“Because I knew I’d win,” he replied.

“You dirty-“

“Devil?” he supplied cheekily.

“This is not over,” she said pointedly.

“Now, now. Don’t be a sore loser.”

She shook her head with a disbelieving smile. Then she shut his refrigerator, and pushed past him.

“Wait! Detective! Where are you going?!” he called after her. 

He found her pulling her jacket on. His eyes flitted to the window and the still raging storm.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving over that?”

“This is war. I am going to find the correct cheese, and I’ll be back to rub it in your face when I win.”

“You’re going to get soaked just to avoid watching Bones with me?”

Lightning streaked across the sky as if to prove his point. Chloe crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not about the show. It’s about the principle,” she insisted.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Might I offer a better solution, though?”

—

Chloe shifted uncomfortably while Lucifer knocked. A small older woman answered the door. 

“Hello, neighbor!” Lucifer greeted oozing charm. 

The woman peered at the two of them from behind her glasses. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a slice of American cheese? I’d pay you for it, of course.”

She closed her door in their faces. Chloe hid her laugh behind her hand. Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her. He was about to reply when the door opened and a half package of Kraft singles was thrust into his arms.

“Thank you,” Chloe said from behind him.

“Yes,” he said withdrawing a wad of twenty dollar bills from his side pocket. He peeled two off and handed them to the woman. “Thank you.”

—

Chloe buttered two slices of white bread liberally, and preheated her skillet. Lucifer flipped his sandwich already constructed and toasting on his size of the stove.

“So, I’ve been thinking...what happens when you lose?” She said laying her buttered bread in the pan. She assembled her sandwich, and stood back.

“Not happening,” he said removing his sandwich from the pan. He dropped it onto a plate and cut it carefully in half, then moved one half to another plate.

Chloe flipped her sandwich and smiled to herself. When it was ready, she used the spatula to cut it in half and added her grilled cheese to both plates.

“Ready for the moment of truth?” he asked, eyes dancing. He picked up her plain grilled cheese sandwich poised to take a bite.

Chloe picked up his sandwich, and raised an eyebrow. They simultaneously bit into their partner’s creations.

Lucifer’s eyes went wide. He swallowed. “Why is this so delicious?” he demanded.

Chloe stifled a laugh as she chewed what Lucifer had made her. It was good, but there was just no comparison. She swallowed.

“I told you,” she said. 

“In this—and this one regard only—you are correct,” he conceded.

“Says the man who thinks his father is behind every case we work,” she teased finishing the sandwich he’d made her.

He licked his lips. “If you believe that it’s all apart of Dad’s grand, ineffable plan, then I’m not wrong.” He shrugged.

Chloe made a show of screwing up her face and crossing her arms.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, just trying to decide what I want...”

“No, Detective,” he admonished, “that’s not how this works. You have to state the terms before the deal is struck.”

“Since when? What happened to a devilish IOU?”

He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Alright,” he said, playfully defeated, “What is it you desire?”

He fixed her with his eyes, and although his little trick didn’t work on her, she stared back, captivated for a moment. She searched his face, then it hit her.

She leaned into him seductively, brought her hand to the side of his face and enjoyed the small catch in his breath. She lightly scraped us stubble beard with her fingernails as he started to close their distance, eyes fixed on her mouth.

“Shave it off,” she said before he could kiss her.

“I’m sorry?” He blinked and pulled away from her.

“I won, so you have to shave your beard.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Detective,” he growled, “that is positively evil.”

She grinned mischievously and took the opportunity to run her fingers through his stubble beard again. He caught her hand against the side of his face.

“You’re going to miss it,” he said, eyes boring into her own.

She bit her lip to conceal her grin. “It’ll grow back. Besides,” she said leaning away from him, “I’m dying to see what kind of a cleaned-up respectable baby face you have.”

“Alright,” he said through a dangerous smile. “A deal’s a deal.”

—

Chloe sipped a glass of wine at his bar, and considered her situation. The rain was as heavy as ever, so she doubted it would be stopping anytime soon. She’d likely be stuck in Lucifer’s penthouse for the remainder of the night, and while she knew he didn’t care, she did. They’d been flirting pretty heavily all night, and she was only human.

She really did value their partnership. He was unorthodox, but very observant. He had a ways to go in understanding and upholding actual procedure, but he respected her authority.

He was also so damn handsome, and not shy about his attraction to her. He’d backed off considerably from when they’d first met, but it was still there, this connection between them. 

Truth be told, when he’d asked her what she desired earlier, her first thought had been him. Of course, she’d never admit to it, and she’d covered brilliantly with a request for him to mar his signature look. 

The scruffy beard he kept trimmed expertly to project the roguish facade he preferred was super sexy. He knew it was. She knew it was. Everyone knew it was. She’d asked for it to come off to break some of this tension between them tonight. If he was self-conscious, then maybe she could redirect the evening.

“Ahem,” he coughed behind her.

She turned and couldn’t hide the smile that lit up her features. He leaned against his bedroom wall, arms crossed, a towel thrown over his shoulder. He shifted under her gaze, and dragged a nervous hand over his newly clean-shaven face.

“Are you satisfied?” he asked playfully.

She hummed, considering. She approached slowly to properly take him in. Tapping a finger to her chin, she circled him.

He watched her warily.

“You’re right,” she conceded. “I miss it. Doesn’t work with your wardrobe.”

He rolled his eyes. “You make me ruin my whole aesthetic,” he groaned.

She giggled. “I’m kidding,” she assured him. She spotted a small dollop of shaving cream behind his ear. “You’ve got—“ she motioned to her own ear. “I’ll get it.” She leaned in to swipe it away with her thumb. She was already touching him, and he’d just shaved at her request...She let her hand wander his newly uncovered skin. It was still warm and slightly damp.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

She swallowed. So close to him, with those fathomless brown eyes of his staring back at her, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Against her better judgment, she started to lean closer to him.

A loud crash of thunder broke the spell.  
Chloe came back to herself quickly, and withdrew her hands from his face. She took a step back, and avoided his eyes.

“Leave it to Dad,” he muttered.

She laughed uncomfortably. “So, uh...Bones?”

He grinned. “You’re going to love it.”

—

“So, Angel is supposed to be me?” she said skeptically.

“His name is Booth, and yes. Badge, gun, tendency to doubt scientific facts.”

“Scientific facts?”

“Detective, I am clearly the Devil.”

She sighed, and sank back into his couch.

“I used to have such a crush on him,” she admitted, referring to David Boreanaz.

“That’s disappointing,” Lucifer said.

“Too obvious?”

“It’s just, the square jaw, the broad chest, those giant arms—you have a type, Detective.”

She grimaced. Pierce had dumped her recently. The relationship had seemed to come out of nowhere, and by the time she’d caught up emotionally, it was over. 

She studied the actor on the screen, then turned to look at the man sitting next to her. “Not always,” she said quietly.

“This is my favorite part!” he exclaimed, completely oblivious.

She chuckled to herself, then scooted closer to lean into his side. He stiffened at first, surprised, then looped an arm over her shoulder.

“You think you’re more Bones than Booth?” she said incredulously.

“Obviously!”

“I’ve got to hear this.”

“We’re both gorgeous, we both work as consultants...” he trailed off.

“You don’t have anything else, do you?”

“Just shut up and watch the show,” he muttered.

—

Sometime later, a boom of thunder woke her. She blinked, unsure of where she was for a moment. The penthouse was dark, and she was alone on Lucifer’s couch with a blanket thrown over her. 

She checked her phone and saw it was just after 2:30. She sat up, and scanned the room for her partner. When she didn’t find him immediately, she decided he must have went to bed. 

She got up, made her way quietly to his kitchen, and got herself a glass of water. 

“Detective? What are you doing up?” he asked joining her in the kitchen.

She’d forgotten about their bet, and his cleanly shaven face surprised her for a moment. She blinked, then shrugged.

“The storm.”

He glanced over his shoulder towards his sitting room and nodded. He stroked his chin, and frowned.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Give me a moment?”

She nodded as he disappeared around the corner. She refilled her glass at the tap and took another drink of water.

He reappeared with a small package of toiletries for her.

“Thanks,” she said eying the travel sized items. “You keep these on standby for your overnight guests?” she asked knowingly.

“I pride myself on being a good host, Detective.”

“Have you hosted anyone recently?”

He crossed his arms and grinned. “Not for a little while.”

She shrugged, nonchalant.

“Why?” he asked smugly.

“Just making conversation. Thanks.” She held up the bag he’d given her and headed to his master bath to wash up for the night.

When she returned to the sitting room, she found him tinkering at his piano. He swiped at his cheek, and grimaced.

“You can’t stop touching your face,” she said through a grin.

“I have to get used to it. It’s been so long since I was clean-shaven. Thanks, by the way,” he said sarcastically.

She laughed taking a seat at the bar. “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”

He rose from the piano to stand next to her.

“You also like grilled cheese,” he quipped.

“So did you!” she accused.

He rubbed his face. “Still, I suppose there could be advantages to this look.”

“No stubble burn,” Chloe agreed. Then she froze. She felt him stare at her. “I didn’t mean—“

He was properly grinning at her, now. 

She buried her face in her hands.

“That’s not something I’d ever considered,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps, as the Bones in this relationship, I should test that theory.”

She looked up at him quizzically and he kissed her. He was gentle and tender, at first. The soft pull of his lips and the smell of his aftershave flooded her senses, and he grasped her waist as he deepened the kiss. She clung to his forearms as he broke away for air. He rested his forehead against her own.

“Less drag, more skin to skin contact,” he said shakily. “I approve.”

“Lucifer,” she breathed, overwhelmed.

He swallowed, still forehead to forehead with her. “I’d be willing to continue to test this hypothesis in other more sensitive areas, if you approve,” he said darkly. He kissed down her jawline and she closed her eyes.

“Detective?” he asked against her throat.

“Hm?”

“Is this what you want?”

She pulled away from him slowly, and met his eyes.

“For science?” she offered.

He grinned at her. “For science.”

—

The unusual thunderstorm in Los Angeles finally abated in the early morning hours that Friday. Once the sun came up, the city went largely back to normal. The one exception, of course were the two people entwined on a bed in a penthouse above a nightclub called Lux.


End file.
